Cif’s angels and demons
By Khaled Diab
I’m
accused of being everything from a neocon ‘Uncle Tom’
to an ‘Islamofascist’. Does this mean I’m doing my
job properly?
January 2008
If someone were to try to construct
a composite personality photo-fit of me based solely on the more outlandish
reactions to my articles on Cif, they would come away
with a very surreal and confusing Picasso-like picture.
In fact, I hardly recognise
myself in these bizarre depictions. According to their combined hearsay, I am
some sort of suave, sophisticated and opportunistic pen-for-hire who serves a
multitude of masters.
These include the hidden hand of
the ‘Islamofascists’ of Tora
Bora, the all-powerful neocons
of Washington, the Zionist string-pullers, orientalist
academia, the sinister eurocrats of Brussels, with a
lucrative sideline spin-doctoring for New Labour and the Egyptian president's
men. I've even lost a beauty contest I didn't even want to
enter with Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad!
Here’s a taster. “What a piece of
sixth form, wannabe Orientalist triteness. But no
more than one would expect from the Guardian's own Arab Uncle Tom,” concluded The Simpsons wannabe KrustytheKlown in an article last week.
The character assassins come out
in particular force when the topic happens to be polarised and partisan, such
as the
It is quite usual for snipers
from both sides of an issue to aim their shots at me, which, some readers
suggest, means that I’m doing something right if I can wind up the opposing
sides equally. “An eminently fair, reasoned and
well-articulated article. Prepare yourself,
therefore, to be assailed as both a ‘neo-con warmonger’ by one group of loons
and an apologist for ‘Islamofascism’ by another,” GreenLake warned me.
In one article on the
Israeli-Palestinian conflict, I was accused of two polar opposites.
”Yet again another article on Cif
which promotes the impression that only the Arabs can be victims. That
Zionism is evil and that the West are [sic] to blame,”
BatleyMuslim alleged.
“I think [your article’s] first line
ought to read ‘We collaborators ...’, shouldn’t it?
You, Ayaan Hirsi Ali,
Mohammed Abbas, and Salman
Rushdie all play bridge together. Don’t you?” countered Travblonski.
Not surprisingly, considering all
these alleged income streams enriching my imaginary alter-ego, some seem to
assume that I'm absolutely rolling in it. “Have you ever considered that when
you get older and wiser, you will wish you could sell your soul to take back
the things you are doing now for money and power?” Travblonski
continued. “Your memories will be of consciously facilitating the deaths of
your fellow Muslims, for a car, a TV, a house, and some spending money at the
bar.”
Well, just to clear things up for
old Trav, I should point out that all the opinions I
express are exclusively my own and, because they are honestly held, I don't
expect to regret them in my dotage, although I may change them at any time if I
discover they are wrong. As for wealth, although it is an honour to write for
the Guardian, my Cif articles will never make me rich
and I definitely won't be giving up the day job any time soon!
Of course, I don't take this type
of rabid vitriol seriously and I realise that I am caught in the crossfire of
ideological conflict. But there are others who express opinions of my supposed
partisanship more subtly and moderately, and this cuts deeper. I have nothing
against people who hold diametrically opposed views to my own, but when they
question my integrity, that is a somewhat different matter. For someone who has
always prided himself on his independence, suggestions that I am one party or
another’s lackey hurt, despite my attempts to ignore or rationalise them.
It appears to me that some
readers have the idea that Cif writers, with their
unmoving, fixed expressions in the photo at the top of the page, are not quite
human – or perhaps are superhuman – and will not be affected by the insults
hurled at them. Of course, your skin thickens with time, but all armour is
penetrable, no matter how much a journalist protests to the contrary. So, I
urge all Cif-ers to go out and e-hug a comment writer
today, and show them that you appreciate them for standing up exposed and bare
in the agora, even if you don’t agree with them.
That said, I am
fortunate. In the balance of things, I’m one of the luckier Cif
contributors, particularly given the controversy and sensitivity surrounding
many of the topics I write about. For instance, the debate following many
articles on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict often resembles a political
pitched battle. Although some tempers may fray after my articles on the topic,
I am generally impressed with the unorthodoxy, intellectual quality and
sensibility of the discussions that ensue.
Even though it is generally
accepted that people are more motivated to comment when they disagree with
something, the volume of positive remarks my articles elicit is truly
heartening. However, I will refrain from boring readers or appearing to massage
my own ego, by repeating any of them here.
Despite the occasional flak, I am
not tempted to trade in my Cif platform. For me, it
has redefined my notion of journalism. Only a few months ago, being a
journalist was a question of solitary reflection and research, with only the
occasional letter to the editor or email to disturb my tranquillity.
Today, some eight months on, and
journalism has become, for me, a multidirectional and multidimensional
conversation. The debates that have ensued under many of my articles have been
truly uplifting and illuminating, and I have learnt a lot from them. I read the
comments under my pieces with as much interest and attention as I hope Cif-ers read the original article.
In the process, I have built up
good rapport with many regular commenters, developing
a certain disembodied, metaphysical intimacy, free of the influence of physical
appearance, gender, nationality or race.
In his Cif
classic, Boris, Israel, 9/11 and me, Sarfraz
Manzoor wrote: “I have begun developing symptoms of a
condition best described as ‘post envy’.” I will openly admit that I feel a
particular rush of excitement when one of my articles enters the hallowed top
10 and a vague sense of disappointment when a piece I expected to elicit a lot
of debate fails to do so.
Nevertheless, I am more often
happier taking the path less-trodden on Cif,
exploring the more off-beat, strolling down the backstreets and alleyways of
society, culture and politics. I am thrilled that the Guardian allows me a
space to wonder and wander, and that readers seem to enjoy coming along for the
ride.
This column appeared
in The Guardian Unlimited’s Comment is Free section on 10
January 2008. Read the related
discussion.
ã2008 K. Diab.
Unless otherwise stated, all the content on this website is the copyright of Khaled Diab.